


Guilt of Savoy

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to I would die for you, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, In the beginning Athos and Aramis were mortal enemies, Post-Savoy, So much guilt, The ending is kinda unhappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: After Savoy, it's Treville who feels most guilty even if he won't tell it.Treville's take on the moments after Savoy and the budding friendship between Athos, Porthos and Aramis.





	Guilt of Savoy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, a new fic has arrived! This time it's mostly Treville who's doing the storytelling and this story is surprisingly description-heavy instead of my usual dialogue-heavy stories. I hope you will like it, though, because it was interesting to write :D

Savoy… Where would Treville start when asked to explain Savoy?

It was a bloody mess of deceit and death surrounding three very different people: the Spanish spy Cluzet, the duchess of Savoy who was also a French spy, and Aramis, a young and enthusiastic musketeer with Spanish and French heritage. Treville had sent twenty-two of his musketeers to the border of Savoy for a training exercise, believing that nothing could happen to those musketeers. His musketeers who were highly skilled and capable, who were the best in all France. His undefeatable musketeers.

Only one had returned alive.

Aramis had been battered and broken as they’d found him guarding the twenty dead musketeers in the forest clearing. He had barely eaten at all during the time he’d been alone with the dead, praying for each one of their souls and for his own salvation. He’d almost lost hope when Treville arrived; he had been lying next to Pierre, the youngest of the dead, as he wished for death to claim him as well. Only the small puff of breath had given him away and Treville had immediately rushed to him, ordering some of the musketeers he had travelled with to help revive Aramis.

That musketeer who had helped had been Porthos. After their return to Paris, he had started helping Aramis with everything he could do. He had helped with the bandages, the food and occasionally even stayed with Aramis during the nights, suspecting he was having nightmares.

Aramis had not accepted the help. He had snapped at Porthos countless of times, trying to drive him and everyone else away. He had almost attacked the surgeon who had been treating him, forcing Porthos to hold him still as the surgeon did the procedures he needed to do. That had made Aramis sulk in his room, not answering even when Porthos came to get him some food.

Treville felt guilty, seeing how painful everything was to Aramis. Treville had agreed to the cardinal’s request to inform the duke of Savoy of the musketeers’ whereabouts happily, believing that the cardinal was finally becoming a more honest man. Seeing Aramis’ suffering, Treville felt like he’d failed all his musketeers, his _sons_ – he had always felt that the musketeers were the sons he’d never had – by revealing such a minor detail to the duke.

That guilt would follow him to the grave.

* * *

Following the musketeers’ training and daily activities from his balcony gave Treville the advantage of seeing almost everything that happened in the garrison courtyard. Every little quarrel, every laugh, Treville could hear them all. That meant he could also hear Aramis’ harsh breathing from where he was training with a sword against Porthos who wasn’t letting him do anything too strenuous.

“You should rest, Aramis”, Porthos grunted as their swords clashed one more time. “This isn’t good for your scars.”

“I don’t care!” Aramis panted, sounding angry. “I _need_ to train! I can’t just sit idly by any longer!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” Porthos argued, trying to stop Aramis’ attacks as best as he could. Aramis was swinging his sword wildly, not caring if he hit something or someone. He had almost a mad glint in his eyes as he fought.

Treville didn’t like that look at all.

Before Treville could intervene, Aramis gasped and fell onto one knee, holding his injured side. He was breathing harshly and looking at Porthos with such a terrifying gaze that it was a wonder, in Treville’s opinion, that Porthos wasn’t stepping back.

“You have to rest”, Porthos said firmly. “I’m not letting you injure yourself any further.”

“I don’t have to do anything”, Aramis hissed. “I’m fighting fit.”

“You’re not”, Porthos said. “If you keep going on like this, your wounds will never heal.”

“What good am I if I can’t fight when needed?” Treville could hear Aramis mumble. Apparently, so could Porthos because he started telling Aramis that he was already doing more than enough and that he really needed to rest in order to recover.

Treville felt a pang of sadness in his chest when he saw Aramis’ apprehensive expression.

* * *

The new recruit – Athos – hadn’t done anything and yet, for some reason, Aramis seemed to hate him with a burning passion. No matter what Athos did, Aramis was always angry at him, glaring daggers at the man’s back. Athos wasn’t much better himself; he openly fought with Aramis whenever he could and insulted him at any given time.

Neither of them was feeling good.

Treville tried to keep the two apart during missions and patrols in order to keep everyone in the garrison sane. He didn’t want to compromise the important missions because the two had decided to take their ill feelings out on the other. The whole garrison quietly thanked Treville as the two continued their silent hatred of each other.

There was, however, a problem in all this: Porthos. He still trailed behind Aramis, trying to make sure Aramis was as comfortable as he could be. At the same time, he’d started a budding friendship with Athos, seeing as Athos had very few friends in the garrison. Treville honestly didn’t know where to assign Porthos. On the other hand, he knew Aramis still needed Porthos, but he also knew Athos needed someone; that someone just happened to be Porthos as well.

The situation gave Treville the worst headaches he’d ever endured.

He wanted his soldiers to feel happy and safe in the regiment. It seemed to him that no matter what he did, either Athos or Aramis would end up feeling alone and possibly lost. It felt wrong for Treville, to have to choose the lesser of two evils. The lesser was usually Aramis who was still restricted to light duty, meaning that Athos would accompany Porthos to longer missions and Aramis would feel lonely and betrayed because no matter what he said, he had gotten used to Porthos being there to catch him.

* * *

“Why do I have to work with him?”

“He’s a danger to everyone, including himself!”

“He won’t listen to any orders; he thinks he’s above them!”

Treville was listening to Athos and Aramis’ complaints about each other and massaging his temples. The two had been assigned to protect a duke as he returned to his castle from Paris. Porthos couldn’t accompany the two as he had been assigned to palace duty for the following few days. As Aramis and Athos bickered, Treville promised himself never to assign the two to the same mission again.

It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

“I can’t spare anyone else for the task”, Treville said firmly. “Trust me; I wouldn’t have had you two assigned on the same task if I could spare anyone else. I know of your disagreements and I only wish to keep everyone here as sane as I can. Your fights certainly don’t help me in that.”

The two looked angrily at each other but turned to walk to the door. When the two were at the door, Treville called, “Aramis will be in charge. He’s been a musketeer longer and knows these things better.”

Aramis’ hand had immediately stopped on the doorknob as he heard he’d be in charge. Treville couldn’t see his face but he could imagine the confusion and anxiety in there: Aramis hadn’t been in charge even once after Savoy.

“Will you manage it, Aramis?” Treville asked.

“Yes”, Aramis said hollowly. “There will be no problem, captain.”

* * *

There actually had been a problem.

Aramis hadn’t been ready to lead such a mission at all. He hadn’t been ready for the possible bandits who could attack the duke they’d accompanied. As soon as the bandits who had been following the duke – the duke later told Treville he knew he’d been followed – Aramis had attacked, rushing into the battle with all he’d got, ignoring the fact that there had been entirely too many bandits for him to fight alone. Athos had tried to stop Aramis in vain; the bandits wounded Aramis and it was only thanks to the duke’s own men that the duke didn’t die that day.

Treville wasn’t pleased.

Aramis was lying unconscious in the infirmary as the surgeon examined him. Athos was leaning on the wall opposite Aramis’ bed, waiting with Treville for the surgeon to finish his examination. Athos wasn’t looking very good either; there was a small gash on his temple and he looked weirdly pale.

“Will he be alright?” Athos asked quietly.

“Oh, he should be, young man”, the surgeon said. “He’s survived this far; it means he’s already getting better. He’s a very strong young man.”

“He saved me”, Athos mumbled, probably not realising he was speaking aloud. “He hates me with all he’s got and still he saved me. He stopped the bandit who was trying to kill me when I was protecting the duke and his wife…”

That was a surprise to Treville. He had always known Aramis as a man loyal to a fault, but he couldn’t have imagined Aramis protecting someone he hated. It was a relief, in a way, to find out that Aramis would still protect Athos when needed.

Except that it really didn’t feel relieving to see Aramis that pale and lying on the infirmary bed. It wasn’t relieving at all to know that Aramis’ idea of protecting people was to physically block the attacks directed to them. Treville wanted Aramis to _heal_ , not to cause himself any further injuries because of the trauma from Savoy.

“What happened, Athos?” Treville asked.

“A man was coming at me from my side”, Athos said, his gaze never even once leaving Aramis. “He was trying to stab me and get to the duke, but Aramis jumped between me and that man.”

“What happened to the man?” Treville prompted. Athos looked at Treville, his expression hollow.

“Aramis killed the man”, Athos said, shaking his head. “He…the way he shouted…he’s not alright, is he? What’s happened to him before I became a musketeer?”

Treville sighed. He had known the question would be coming but it didn’t make answering any easier. He didn’t know what exactly Aramis had gone through and what Aramis wanted told to Athos, the man he still hated gravely.

“There was a massacre”, Treville said. “Aramis was the only survivor. He was there for days, alone with the corpses, before he was found. I have no idea what he went through in there, all alone and surrounded by the corpses.”

“And how is he still a musketeer?” Athos asked. “People have been crushed by less. He’s in no fit state to be a musketeer!”

“And where would he go if he lost his place here?” Treville asked. “He has no one else than us, Athos. I will not abandon him.”

As Treville walked away from the infirmary, it dawned to him that he really did not know where Aramis could go if he lost his commission in the musketeers. Treville had no idea who the young man was. He had only found Aramis once in the infirmary and brought him in when the musketeers were founded. Even then Aramis had told nothing about himself or his past to any of the musketeers.

Treville felt weak for a moment as he imagined Aramis losing his commission.

* * *

Aramis was soon back on his feet and his feud with Athos continued. On Athos’ part, though, it wasn’t as fiery and all-consuming as it had been before Aramis had saved him. Instead, Athos ended up being rather worried for Aramis and always trying to look out for the man. He tried to make sure that Aramis had eaten enough and that he was getting enough sleep, which Aramis really wasn’t.

Treville felt oddly proud about the change. The two were still maintaining the outward look of hate even though it was clear that Athos wasn’t going to hate Aramis as much as he used to. Treville could tell Athos was a stubborn man, though, and that he would need some more time until he could accept that he wouldn’t hate Aramis any longer.

The thought made Treville smile to himself, sometimes.

The happiness didn’t last for very long as there was another incident involving the two. They’d been patrolling the city with Porthos – surprisingly, Porthos’ company somehow calmed the two as they wouldn’t try to kill each other when he was present – as they’d witnessed a scene between two robbers and a marketplace seller. The robbers were trying to snatch food and the seller – a strong man himself – was trying to stop them when Aramis intervened, pulling the bigger robber away from the old seller.

The robber tried to fight, giving Aramis a reason to unsheathe his sword and begin fighting the man. Athos and Porthos were soon at his side, helping the old seller fight the other robber and trying to make sure everything was alright.

What they hadn’t accounted for was that there could be more robbers nearby.

Suddenly chaos erupted as more robbers emerged from the crowd and began fighting Athos and Porthos as well. They seemed to overpower the three and as there were no other musketeers around, the situation seemed grave. Aramis especially seemed to be in a tight spot with three men fighting him.

It was then that Athos decided to help. He had managed to wound his opponents fairly quickly and was heading towards Aramis when an explosion shook the marketplace. Athos could see a brick hanging loose right above Aramis and he began running.

When the brick came loose, Athos yelled. Aramis turned around, looking at Athos with confusion. Athos jumped, pushing Aramis away from the falling brick that connected with Athos’ head instead.

When Treville later arrived at the scene, he encountered a distressing sight: Aramis was hugging Athos’ unconscious body and rocking back and forth. His eyes were unfocused and his breathing uneven and no one else than Porthos had gone near him. He was guarding the two and making sure that Athos was still breathing.

(Later, Porthos would tell Treville what exactly happened and why Aramis was cradling Athos’ body and it had nothing to do with the fact that Athos had pushed Aramis away from the falling brick. That was when Aramis had had his first flashback somewhere where other people could see it and, in the panic, his mind had done the only logical thing: grabbing something for comfort.)

As the medic tried to examine Athos, Aramis hissed at him. He wouldn’t let go of Athos until Porthos managed to ease his grip off of Athos and then slowly helped him stand up. Aramis was still shaking when Porthos began leading him back to the garrison where they’d wait for Athos to be transported there.

As Treville rode to the garrison, he realised that it would be a long night for everyone. Athos was most likely concussed while Aramis was in a mindset where only Porthos could get through him. Treville knew Porthos wouldn’t rest until both of his friends were safe and sound.

Treville wished Porthos would take some time to rest.

* * *

In the end, Athos and Aramis did become fast friends.

It was after three long days of Porthos having been kidnapped and Athos and Aramis going all sorts of crazy with worry for their friend, when the three sat at the table in the garrison courtyard, laughing at everything that had happened. Porthos had been held for ransom from the musketeers and Athos and Aramis had decided to go on a solo mission to rescue Porthos. They had been bickering the whole time and even when they were dragging Porthos away from the room he’d been kept in, they’d been yelling at each other.

Now, Porthos was recounting the tale to a group of younger musketeers who were all staring the trio with awe. Aramis was smiling – actually smiling! – and even Athos had a soft smirk on his face. Treville was listening intently; he loved hearing the stories of well-done missions where no one got hurt.

“And those two were still insulting each other when they were rescuing me!” Porthos told as he laughed his booming laugh. “Aramis was guarding the door while Athos was untying the ropes they’d tied me with and they were trading insults like no tomorrow. You can’t imagine how confused I was when I realised they’d done all of it on their own!”

“We did get the captain’s permission”, Aramis said before Porthos could continue. “Though technically the permission was for a few days off, not to save Porthos.”

“How did you manage that?” Antoine, one of the newest recruits, asked enthusiastically.

“With Aramis’ unbeatable charm”, Athos said, chuckling softly.

“And Athos’ grumpiness”, Aramis laughed. “We were quite a pair.”

“I can imagine that”, said Serge who’d come to the courtyard to listen to the story of the three friends. “You two used to hate each other so much and now you’re like best friends. What happened?”

“I guess… we realised how stupid we’d been”, Aramis said softly. He was already rather drunk and one thing everyone, Treville included, had come to know was that Aramis was very honest when drunk. “I had been trying to hide how bad I’d been doing and for some reason I took it all out on Athos. I was being a real idiot. I’m sorry, Athos.”

“Don’t be”, Athos said. “I was being equally stupid, thinking you were selfish for hogging Porthos all to yourself. Now I see why you were doing that and that I was being immature. It’s me who should be asking for forgiveness.”

For a moment, no one said anything until Porthos broke the silence with a deep chuckle. He flung his arms around the shoulders of Aramis and Athos and pulled the two closer to him. Aramis let out a little yelp of surprise while Athos rolled his eyes.

“Does that make us three friends finally?” he asked.

“I believe it does”, Athos said, smirking again. “How about you, Aramis?”

“Yes”, Aramis mumbled. “Yes, I think we are friends now…”

“Good”, Porthos said and squeezed their shoulders. “It was about time. I might have had to smash your dumb heads together otherwise.”

Everyone, even Treville, laughed at the comment and Porthos began telling the story of how they’d made their grand escape from the place Porthos had been hidden in. At some point, Aramis had gotten up and walked away, probably in search of more wine for the group to drink. When he had been gone for quite a while, Treville grew worried and went off to look for Aramis. As he was passing the stables, he heard a soft sniffle from inside.

There was a small altar dedicated for those who died in Savoy inside the stables. If Aramis had seen it, the sniffling could only be him. Everyone else had already moved on, except for Aramis who had acted like he had been alright even though he wasn’t.

As Treville walked inside the stables, he encountered a heart-wrenching sight. Aramis was on his knees, leaning to a pillar between two horses’ enclosures. He was shaking and occasionally sobbing as his gaze was fixed on the small altar for the men who had died in Savoy. He was covering his mouth with his hand, possibly trying to hide the sounds of his crying so that others wouldn’t come looking for him.

Treville had to help Aramis. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t. He knelt down next to Aramis and placed his hand on Aramis’ shoulder. Aramis shivered as Treville slowly pulled him into a warm embrace.

“You’re safe now, son”, Treville whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

Aramis gasped for air as new sobs shook him. Treville rocked him back and forth, rubbing circles on his back. Aramis gripped Treville’s coat as he desperately tried to calm down.

Suddenly there was shuffling at the doors of the stables and Treville saw Athos standing there, looking worried. He turned around for a moment after looking at Treville’s eyes.

“Porthos!” Athos called. “Porthos! They’re here, at the stables!”

Athos turned back to Treville and Aramis and rushed to Treville’s side. He gently pulled Aramis away from Treville, into a new embrace. Aramis grabbed Athos’ doublet and buried his face on Athos’ shoulder, weeping quietly. Athos sat down, leaning on the pillar Aramis had previously leaned on. Porthos soon arrived at the stables and for a moment he could only stare at the sight before him. Then he rushed to Athos, hugging his two friends.

“It’s my fault”, Aramis gasped between the sobs. “They were…some of them were alive after the massacre…I couldn’t save them…I couldn’t save them!”

Athos, Porthos and Treville looked at each other, horror apparent in all their expressions as they understood what Aramis had said. If he’d actually had to deal with all that guilt alone – Treville was positive Aramis hadn’t told anyone about it – it was no wonder he’d been doing so bad.

“It’s not your fault, Aramis”, Porthos whispered softly. “It was never your fault; you were wounded and alone, no one could have saved the others in there. You did what you could and survived. That’s all we could ever have hoped for.”

“No”, Aramis muttered. “Pierre…he was afraid…He didn’t want to die. He almost made it until you arrived…I tried to keep him warm and change his bandages, but he still died…”

“That’s why you were next to him”, Treville said as he understood why Aramis had been next to the corpse. “Oh, son, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

At that moment, Treville truly hated Richelieu. The way Aramis was, the amount of pain he’d had to endure, Treville would never forgive Richelieu for those things. Though, that meant he couldn’t forgive himself either, since he’d caused the whole situation by revealing the musketeers’ position to the duke of Savoy. He had caused the situation, no matter how unknowingly.

At that moment, Treville felt like the guilt would be his downfall.

“Come now, Aramis, let’s get you to your room”, Porthos said as he began helping Aramis to stand up. Aramis was still crying quietly as Athos and Porthos began leading him out of the stables. Porthos was promising Aramis that he and Athos would stay with him that night and every night he needed their support. Athos was quiet, offering his silent support with a supporting hand on Aramis’ shoulder.

Treville hoped that Aramis would recover as he himself felt like he could never recover from the guilt of Savoy.

The guilt would never let go of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome and I would love to hear from you!
> 
> My tumblr is talvenhenki if anyone of you is interested in seeing me scream about my fave musketeers and the world in general ;)


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